


Bliss

by la_faye_tte



Series: The world has changed [a series of Ted/Paul fics] [6]
Category: The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals - Team StarKid
Genre: Angst, Death, Multi, some canon divergence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-27
Updated: 2019-11-27
Packaged: 2021-02-24 16:54:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21581512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/la_faye_tte/pseuds/la_faye_tte
Summary: TGWDLM scene (Let it Out) rewrite where Ted and Paul were exes. Follows “Cowardice” There’s gonna be angst and some canon divergence here. This is also the last in the series of scene rewrites.
Relationships: Chai Coffee - Relationship, Paul Matthews/Ted, Ted/Paul Matthews, implied Paulkins
Series: The world has changed [a series of Ted/Paul fics] [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1544002
Comments: 1
Kudos: 43





	Bliss

The walk to the Starlight Theater was a death march. They must have known he was coming because he didn’t encounter any of the Infected in the streets. They were waiting, preparing to celebrate his downfall. Well, Paul is now intent on disappointing them.

Paul refused to think of anything else but destroying that meteor. He knew that if he allowed himself to think about everyone who was lost, and how the fate of the world was dependent on this act of martyrdom he imposed on himself, he might fall apart before he even reached the theater. He’ll mourn them properly later. _If he even gets a later._ If he thought about what he had to do even if it meant facing the stolen bodies of his fallen friends, he might break down any moment now. Emma could very well join them, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to deal with the guilt if that happened and he did nothing. So he locks it all up and continues trudging to the dreaded venue. He swore he’ll keep fighting. He’ll fight for them. For the lost. For Emma. For everyone else.

“The old Starlight Theater...” The name sounded like a death sentence, and for Paul, it very well may be. 

Paul pushed open one of the main double-doors cautiously, hoping he won’t get torn to shreds the moment he enters the damaged establishment. Once inside in one piece, he briefly looked around the lobby. Most of the furniture and architecture was still intact, with only a few floorboards ripped off, slightly singed curtains, and blue soot on the walls. There was also a faint blue mist in the air which smelled of ashes, with a slight odor of cement. He thought he’d never step foot in this place again since the last time Bill and Alice asked him to come with them when Alice was in grade school.

Entering the theater itself, Paul saw the meteor, buried in the splintered floorboards of the stage, right in the middle. It glowed a neon blue despite being shrouded with a fog in a similar shade of blue. If it wasn’t the cause of the world’s end, it might even be mesmerizing. _No,_ Paul had to focus.

“We’ve been waiting for you, Paul.” A familiar voice drawled from one of the seats.

“Bill, stay back.” It was cruel how they started with the bait of his best friend. Paul wanted to ignore the still deep red stains on Bill’s shirt.

“Watch out Paul, he might kick your head.” Ted stood from the seats on the other side.

“And that would be a lah dee dah dah dah.” Nora popped up from a few rows in front of Ted.

“Ted! Emma’s boss.” Paul couldn’t be bothered with remembering her name.

“That’s right, Paul. All your best friends are here.” Hidgens’ walked in.

“We’re happy now. We got what we wanted.” Mr. Davidson appeared from near the orchestra pit.

“No, no. Mr. Davidson didn’t want to become a mindless alien slave. He wanted to be choked by his wife...while he jerked off! Well, I’m gonna put a stop to all this.” Paul fumbled with one of the grenades.

“I thought you didn’t care about saving the planet?” Greenpeace Girl taunted.

“Back off Greenpeace Girl! I pull this pin and you’re all toast.” Paul threatened.

“You wouldn’t do that, Paul.” Nora taunted.

“I sure as hell will.” Paul glared at her defiantly.

“And what about you? You’ll die too. Is that what you want?” Mr. Davidson chimed.

One quick look at these people he used to know, and knowing he wasn’t able to prevent the deaths of some of them, came a hollow and resigned reply. “It doesn’t matter what I want.”

“We think it does, Paul.” Bill spoke up. Harsh, how Bill used to be the best friend he could open up to. Notes to a song were beginning to fill the air and Paul desperately wished he could deny hearing it.

“And we wanna hear about it.” Ted added. They just had to rub more salt into that wound and remind him more of what used to be, huh?

“In fact, we think there’s a song in you yet.” Mr. Davidson grinned and the music started building up.

Paul forced himself to ignore it all and keep walking until he was close enough to the meteor to blow it up. The Infected reached for him but instead of grabbing him, they caressed him mockingly. They were certain he wouldn’t try to hurt them. Not yet. They’d call it a _welcome._ They knew what they were doing as the emotions and memories Paul had bottled up began bubbling to the surface and threatened to spill. The Infected chanted to a melody that Paul wanted to stop hearing, but it only grew louder and louder, and all the accumulated guilt and grief grew and grew until...

“What was that?” Paul was truly horrified.

“You let it out.” Greenpeace Girl smiled proudly.”

And Paul could feel himself being ripped away from whatever control he was clinging to over his self. It made him move in a way that his bones cracked audibly. The meteor’s siren call crescendoed the closer he got to it and he fell to the floor. His lungs burned and his throat ached as he felt his insides being invaded. God doesn’t answer choked out prayers in the event of the apotheosis. Paul was forced to fight himself by himself. 

_Was he really strong enough to fight this?_

_Was he enough?_

_Maybe, in the end, all of this was just...inevitable._

But no. There was still Emma. He couldn’t let down Emma. He couldn’t fail her like he failed everyone else. He awakes to hands all over him, faces hovering inches away from his, but the grenade is cold in his hands. It was the most real thing he could feel in that moment and he remembers the rage that comes with grief.

**_“I don’t like musicals!”_ ** ____

* * *

Paul awakes surrounded by rubble and covered in dust and ashes. Everything ached to much to move. His insides probably bled and his bones were beyond repair, but he supposed he was still alive. He was also fairly certain some of his nerves were fried from the third-degree burns he sustained on his limbs. All was quiet. Maybe this finally meant peace. 

He could hear shuffling around him, but he couldn’t even lift his head from all the pain. There were also muffled voices whose chatter he couldn’t quite decipher. No singing. Maybe all was safe. 

That idea was shattered the moment a familiar face appeared just above his, smiling. In an instant, Paul knew he had failed. 

_He wasn’t enough._

Despair filled his soul as he internally lamented the fact that not even committing this suicide mission was enough to prevent the inevitable. He was as good as dead. Just like every single person here. He could pick apart certain voices now, Bill’s, Mr. Davidson’s, Professor Hidgens’. Perhaps it was also only a matter of time until they revealed that they got Emma now too. 

All of that was for nothing. That reality broke him more than that explosion did. Now, here he was, immobile and completely vulnerable in the midst of what he hated most masquerading death as blissful happiness. 

The alien before him speaks, “We never did end things properly, did we? Not with that break-up. Not with that farewell that was rudely interrupted.” 

Paul refused to answer. 

He went on, “I was going to tell you I still loved you.” 

Paul wasn’t new to the Hive’s mind games. _No matter how much truth they held._ He was determined not to fall for it like his friends had. But then again, it’s easier not to fall if it isn’t directed to you. 

“You fought hard, but you just can’t win. Aren’t you tired? You’re also hurting and I don’t mean just physically. I couldn’t take away your pain before, but I can now. If you don’t want to let it out, then let us in and let us give you the happiness and rest you deserve.” 

If this was months ago, the words would have been sweet honey, but now, they’re just Belladonna. This wasn’t how Paul wanted to die, but he knew, he couldn’t fight anymore. He stayed silent. 

Death was a kiss from a lost past love. Something not to be wanted, yet given. It was poison forcing its way down his throat and consuming his entire being from the inside. It was slowly losing control and consciousness as his free will was stripped away until all that’s left was a damaged puppet. 

Paul awakens, no longer himself, and smiles. “I’ve missed you too.” 


End file.
